


Funhouse Mirror

by LadyOfTheOldWorld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lesbian Character(s), Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Original Character(s), Past Child Abuse, This won't be happy and I'm not sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheOldWorld/pseuds/LadyOfTheOldWorld
Summary: Following his incarceration after the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, Amara finds letters inher Father'sLucius' office that are curiously warded. At first, reading them is simply spite, but it quickly becomes something much more telling about the man who's love she always wanted and the cycles of abuse that plague the Malfoy Family. Everyone has their own skeletons in their closets, after all -- Amara just never expected to find a living one in her Father's.





	Funhouse Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [La wen Shoufei (Raven_Charge)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Charge/gifts).



> Originally, Amara was just an OC of mine, albeit one that I put years into and fleshed out as much as I could. About a year ago, however, she split into two distinct -- but similar -- characters who so happened to have the same name. Here, the two meet. Mostly my way of fleshing out my second favorite Pureblood House with my own headcanons. The tags are a bit spoilery, but I'd rather spoil things to come than have any of you walk into this blind and get yourselves hurt as a result.
> 
> Rated for themes, and dedicated to along-time friend of mine.

Two pairs of cold, wary grey eyes were locked across the table between them. Both people were masculine in appearance, though the younger more so, as the elder possessed longer hair. The blonde was the older of the pair, though both possessed very similar features, and both wearing the same expression of carefully practiced neutrality. Both possessed sharp features, grey eyes, ghostly pale skin, and masculine forms of expression, so it would have been neither surprising nor incorrect to come to the conclusion that they were related. A key difference between them, however -- the least notable being hair color and length -- was that the blonde appeared all but gaunt, while the brunette seemed healthy and strong. They were both of the same eight and basic build (tall and androgynous in the extreme), but it was clear that age hadn't been kind to the blonde; well, either age or life. Whichever had been more savage didn't seem to matter, as the older of the two was still the first to speak, beating the short-haired brunette to the punch as the saying went.

"So," her voice was all but a rasp, low and dark and rough. "Why did Luc bring you here? Better yet, why did he tell you about me in the first place?"

The younger of the two twitched, something she could and would have normally expertly hidden, but it appeared that veracity had been startled out of her. Against what she had been taught, in opposition to what she had had beaten into her over the years, the brunette found that she was compelled to be truthful to the older woman. Odd as that reaction was, however, she supposed that it was no odder than the current situation. After all, common as these places were in the Muggle World, they were almost unheard of in the Wizarding World. 'These places,' Goddess she was a coward; given the situation, she should be willing to at least _think_ the words.

Mental hospital.

"Luc -- _My Father_ ," the brunette forced herself to name the blood relation between herself and the man in question, "didn't." For one, 'Luc' -- aka _Lucius Malfoy_ \-- hadn't done either of those things. For another, he had _never_ been a father to her, though that was neither here nor there at the moment. (She refused to think of the part of herself that still craved his love like air.) However, before she could continue, she found herself once again cut off by the blonde.

"Narcissa, then? She never much liked me, but when it comes to cautionary tales, needs must."

Another twitch was garnered from the younger woman, though this time it was more from annoyance than surprise or anything else. As always, however, the emotional training that she had endured since she was a child kept her from voicing it. She was unaware that the blonde also possessed a quick temper, but that different situations had given the older woman a much more iron-clad, icy control over her emotions. Durmstrang was a harsh mistress at the best of times, and calling her something akin to a muggle military school wouldn't have been far from the truth, after all. It would have unsettled the younger to know that she wasn't the first unwanted daughter in the family, however, so perhaps it was better that she didn't know it.

" _No_ - _one_ told me anything," the brunette corrected, quickly continuing before she could be interrupted _yet_ _again_. "I was going through his office -- he's in prison -- and found the letters you exchanged." It was still shameful that it took his being incarcerated for her to do something so bold, but she shoved away her self-loathing for the time being. As for the letters themselves, both women knew that there had been little in them, but neither said it.

The blonde studied her niece, speaking again only after a moment's pause. "...You broke the concealment charm I placed on them." It wasn't a question; it was the only way that they could have been read by anyone other than Lucius himself. I must say, I'm impressed. I created that spell for the purpose of hiding my correspondence with my brother from our parents... But, if you broke it, then that means that you've either been blessed with intelligence beyond anyone else in the family, or," and here she smirked, the expression sending a bolt of icy electric fear down her niece's spine, "you've used similar spells to ward your own letters."

Still reeling from that smirk -- it was the perfect mirror of Lucius'! -- the younger woman didn't reply immediately. Unsettled, and for the first time beginning to wonder at the wisdom of her choice to come here, she took another moment to find her words once more. The scar that had blinded her left eye was burning at the memories that smirk brought to the fore. "I have, though Draco never wrote back..." Why he had never answered her letters didn't matter; once again, had been wrenched from her by the blonde without her leave. "I don't understand why you would need to ward them, though," a lie, but that didn't matter just then, "or even why neither my brother nor I ever knew you existed..." She dared to continue, despite suddenly feeling as if she were in her Father's presence rather than her aunt's. "Or why you're in here in the first place."

As if to further unsettle her, the gaunt woman laughed. The only compensation that she had, was that the sound was cracked and thin from being long unused -- nothing at all like Lucius own smug, cold, silky expression of false mirth. It wasn't much, but when faced with a woman that was so much like both herself and her tormentor, she would take what she could get. Then her aunt spoke again, snapping her from her spiraling thoughts. "So Luc didn't tell either of you anything, did he? I shouldn't be surprised. He was always like that, trying to pretend that if he ignored something or someone long enough, the situation would just... _disappear_. Of course, he should have learned long ago that that won't work on me, or even on everything he once said he would never become..." A cold smile twisted her lips, and the brunette began to wonder if she were truly a madwoman. "I saw your reaction, girl, and coupled with that scar, I know what it means. It means that he became our Father, became everything that he once swore to me he would never become..." Her mirth suddenly evaporated, replaced with a tiredness that seemed to bore deeply into her soul. "I just hope that you never become me, child, or I will willingly become your cautionary tale."

Fascinated and terrified all at once, only one question further managed to fall from the younger Malfoy woman's suddenly trembling lips. "W-Who... _are_ you?"

Grinning sharply, looking like a macabre cross between Lucius and a skull, the blonde answered her niece. "The first child my Father wished he had drowned at birth. I am Amara Malfoy."

All the brunette could do, was stare.

It was like looking through a muggle funhouse mirror. They had the same name, the same face, the same past... but, if Fate were at all ever good, they would have different futures.

Only time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> To clear up any confusion, the blonde Amara is Lucius' older sister, while the brunette is his daughter and Draco's older sister.


End file.
